Good Bye
by RiyaneVerday
Summary: Scarlett Rosmerta and Roman Flint, both age 18. Scarlett once day had been looking out her bedroom window when she saw a mysterious figure. Who is it? Well, she'd about to go investigate.


He was out there, except, maybe "he" was a "she" - it was hard to tell in the dark. Three nights in a row, Scarlett looked down on to the street from her bedroom window and watched the shape stand there, almost hidden behind the oak that refused to die. She has this feeling that whoever they were, they were only a year or two older than herself.

The first night, Scarlett had just stared at the faceless figure, but abandoned the task because she became bored. The second night, she dug deep within herself and found a little more courage. She pushed the window's glass so that it hung ajar and opened her mouth to speak, but immediately closed it. What could she say? "Hey, you! Stop creeping my house!" Scarlett may be an extrovert, but she wasn't stupid.

Tonight however, was going to be different. She was going to scramble down the scuffed hardwood stairs, run out the front door, and confront this person.

_Stop being a wimp. Just do it! _She thought bitterly to herself, _Just go out and find out who they are! _Scarlett didn't know what it was about the nameless man, or woman. Standing under the oak tree that had been dead since they moved into the grand house, the figure seemed to be calling her. It was as if it was begging, pleading even, her name. _Scarlett._

Leaning against the wide frame that surrounded her window, she peered at the figure once more. Dressed in what appeared to be an all black outfit, the stranger was nearly invisible.

Pushing off the window frame, Scarlett reached for the black hoodie on the foot of the bed. Her breath was uneven and gingery. _Just nerves, _she thought unconvincingly. Shaking her arms through the sleeves, and nearly zipping her chin in the zipper, she pushed her bedroom door open silently. Her home wasn't exactly new, not like the houses that surrounded it. Some of the stairs liked to creak, doors opened by themselves, and Scarlett swore that once she had felt the house move during a thunderstorm.

Gently, Scarlett shut to door behind her. Immediately, she was greeted by the family doberman, Tank. Crouching down, she kissed the wiggling dog and rubbed his sides. "Sissy will be right back, baby," she whispered hoarsely. As if he understood, Tank gracefully walked to the circular dog bed and flopped down, asleep in seconds.

Grinning, she took the stairs two at a time. That was the trick to sneaking out, which Scarlett had learned within a month of living in the new house.

Once her bare feet touched the cold, tile floor, she paused. Did she really want to do this? What if he was a serial killer? Or a rapist? Taken aback by her thoughts, she shook her head, chuckling, and crossed the lengthy distance from the staircase to the front door. With her right hand, she pulled her sweater's hood over her head.

As she brought her hands to touch to door knob, a rush of adventure flooded through Scarlett's veins. Taking this as a good sign, she pushed the door open and stepped through.

For early October, it was chilly. The leaves had begun to transform into beautiful shades of red, orange, and yellow. Autumn had always been her favourite season. The temperature was near perfect, if perfection could truly be achieved in such a thing. And the leaves, oh, how Scarlett loved the beautiful colours that emerged every fall.

Holding both hands to her chest in one large fist, Scarlett walked slowly down the cobble stone steps that met the asphalt driveway. The figure hadn't seen here yest, and evidently, had not heard her either. Nerves began to eat away at the lining of her stomach, as if the feeling was attempting to escape from her body. Inhaling deeply, she marched swiftly down the driveway's length. She'd nearly reached the sidewalk that lined the bottom of the house's property when she skidded to a stop.

He was looking directly at her.

Scarlett knew the figure was male just by looking at him. Under the street lamp's yellowing glow, the familiar figure's features were revealed. Kind and gentle blue eyes with long lashes took up much of his face. Dirty blonde hair, spiked playfully in the front offered the sight of his high cheekbones. And his lips, almost full, looked as though he'd been biting them. The sight of them was exhilarating, as if Scarlett had been longing to see them. Her doe-like eyes opened widely as she realized who she was staring at.

"Roman."

The name fell effortlessly from her mouth as she grinned a sad smile. Immediately, an unsure expression painted itself across her face as she slowly walked toward him. Maybe it was just the trick of the light; maybe this man was just a stranger. A lump formed in the back of her throat, but it dissolved with remarkable speed as he whispered, "Lulu?"

Involuntarily, Scarlett gasped, a shocked look plastered itself onto her eyes and around her mouth. Only one person has ever called her Lulu. Breaking into a run, she closed the distance between them. The moment their bodies collided, Scarlett's arms wrapped around his shoulders and her legs coiled around his waist.

Most would have either dropped her, or asked her if she was crazy. Roman, however, was not like most. His hands found their way to her lower back, skin exposed between the hem of her jeans and the bottom of her hoodie. He smelled of clean laundry and freshly baked bread, a strange combination, but nevertheless, Scarlett found it comforting. She nuzzled her face int his left shoulder, her eyelashes tickling his now-exposed collar bone.

"I missed you." she murmured, her words still decipherable, though her face pressed into his chest.

Against her rib cage, she could feel the thunderous vibration of him laughing. She never realized how much she'd truly missed him until she'd stepped into this moment. Her heart ached in her chest, for Scarlett had longed for this moment. Too many nights had been wasted, laying in her queen-sized bed, imagining what it would feel like to hold him. Not just to hold him, but to venture into the magic that was Roman.

Silence filled the air around them, Scarlett felt her heart drop to her stomach. Moments later, he finally spoke. "I've missed you. So much. I can't even begin to describe how much I've missed you." A look of hope crossed her eyes, but the rest of her face lay untouched. Slowly, her head rose from his shoulder. Did she dare look to his face?

Inhaling gingerly, she peered into the eyes of a man she'd nearly forgotten. In those eyes, those pure, honest, blue eyes, is where hope settled in. In those eyes, Scarlett saw years of hide-and-go-seek, plates of nachos, and countless admiring glances that they had both exchanged.

"Do you..." Scarlett mumbled. That she really wanted to say was, "Do you feel it too?" A thousand thoughts shoved themselves through her mind. _How do I tell the person I've longed for since the moment I laid eyes on him that he's my everything? That, no matter how far I've moved, he'll will always be the one? Despite all the girlfriends I've seen come and go, I love him._

"Yes."

The single word seemed to freeze time. It echoed through her mind, but still, she couldn't be sure that he had understood exactly what she'd meant. There was so many other thoughts that could be running through his mind.

Slowly, Scarlett started again, "Are you -"

"Yes," Roman's voice cracked when he mumbled the single word once more. Her eyes searched his face, looking for answers. _Does he love me too? _Scarlett thought, a soft blush creeping onto her face.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Roman smiled. The perfect smile caused her stomach to flip flop, the blush on her face to increase, and caused a single thought to swim through her mind. _I'm still in his arms._ This lone thought painted her face a brilliant cherry colour, displaying how embarrassed she was. Scarlett moved to release her hold of his shoulders and waist, but found she couldn't.

Roman's right hand and arm supported her weight across the width of her thoughts, but his left hand was no longer at the small of her back. The rough texture found her right hand, and grasped it tightly, as if she was his life line. His eyes, like hers not moments before, searched her face, analyzing it. What was running through his mind, Scarlett had no idea.

A second later, she had her answer. His lips closed the small gap between them. His lips were on hers. If Scarlett could have gasped, she would have. Instead, her delicate hands nervously slid from his shoulders to either side of his face. His mouth tasted of mint, and his stubble rubbed along the length of her chin. Scarlett felt the warm touch of Roman's hand along her jaw. She could feel every touch, every movement. They were one body. Every time Roman pulled his lips from hers to breathe, she could feel it in her lungs. When his legs flexed under her minuscule weight, hers did the same.

For moments that Scarlett wished could last forever, they stood in each other's embrace. Kissing, laughing, nuzzling, the time was spent perfectly. Roman slowed his lips down, and, reluctantly, Scarlett did the same. She could feel her heart beat at her throat. The blood rushed past her ears in excitement. Pulling away finally, Roman slowly set her on the grass. He didn't let her go. Rather, Roman held on her sides and pull her to his torso.

She pressed her right ear to the left side of his chest. Within seconds, she could hear his rapid heart beat. A grin growing on her face, Scarlett opened her mouth to say something, anything, but was cut off by his pleasing voice.

"I'm sorry," Roman mumbled hoarsely, "I'm sorry that I haven't called you, or written you, or visited you. I've missed you ever since the moment you said good-bye." Scarlett heard an unsteady breath as Roman continued, "I - I just had to see you."

She felt Roman's arms tighten around her waist. The muscles in his chest contracted sharply, making her all but jump. She'd never seen him like this. So honest, completely open, it was strange. Scarlett had taught herself to hide her emotions, while Roman had opened up and left his heart flashing on his forearm. They'd stepped into an alternate universe, but she didn't mind.

Slowly, she lifted her head from Roman's chest. Their eyes locked onto one another's, and Scarlett had to stop herself from releasing a gasp of surprise. Tears clung to his eyelashes, pooling to the brim of his eyes. His lips had twisted themselves into a face of pain and longing. Even the air around them smelled of sadness.

"Roman," Scarlett's tone was soft but direct, "What's going on?" For the second time, her eyes scanned his face, not just searching for answers, but demanding them. Everything about this situation seemed wrong. Something was bothering him, and it evidently was killing him. But still he would not speak. Shaking his head, Roman looked away, blinking away the newly sprung tears. Once again, Scarlett spoke, "Roman. You can tell me."

Instead of answering her, he leaned down and gently touched his lips to hers. Their lips barely touched, but she could taste the emotion buried in his soul. She could taste sadness, loneliness, misery. From what, Scarlett had no idea. Hungrily, Scarlett stood on the tips of her toes and closed the tiny distance between them.

She tried to pour all the happy feelings she could think of into that kiss. Kissing him roughly, she remembered all the, almost, romantic moments they'd shared. In the fifth grade, when their hands had accidentally brushed as they were walking home from school. The seventh grade, they were playing spin the bottle. Scarlett had almost gotten her first kiss that night, if her mom hadn't of came to pick her up early. The ninth, when he'd taken her to the formal because she didn't have a date. The tenth, standing under the mistletoe. Scarlett had almost gotten a kiss then too, until Roman had ran off.

Pulling away, Scarlett inhaled, completely breathless. To her satisfaction, Roman was just as out of breath as she was. For the last time, Scarlett tried to decipher his face, "Please?" She knew that her eyes said much more than her voice did, but she knew that he would understand.

Smiling sadly, Roman lifted her right hand to his lips, kissing the top of is with a feathery kiss. "Tomorrow."

The next morning, Scarlett awoke in her queen-sized bed. Looking down at the bed, she grinned as she saw the familiarity of Roman's sweat shirt. _It wasn't a dream._ she thought happily as she rolled out of bed. It was 9:57am, her parents had either left for work or had went into the city, but Scarlett didn't really care.

Striding across the small room, she lifted the sweater up, only to have a white envelope fall out. Slowly, she bent over and picked it up. She flipped the letter over. Etched across the front of the envelope was a single word. Her name. Inhaling deeply, Scarlett stuck her finger in the gap of the letter and ripped it open. Unfolding the crisp, off-white paper, Scarlett began to read.

_Lulu,_

_I'm really sorry. This will be the last time you hear from me. I can't tell you why, because you'll find some way to make me stay, and I just can't. It's a long, terrible story, and you don't need to live with the horrifying details. Instead, I want to tell you a story. It's about a young man, about the age of 15. You see, one day, he was lucky enough to stand under the mistletoe with the girl of his dreams, but he chickened out and ran off. A month later, her and her family moved away. He wrote to her. Everyday. But he just couldn't bring himself to send her the letters. A few years later, his mother told this girls address, not knowing what he would do with it. As his last favour, his last dying wish if you will, he asked his mother for a plane ticket to see her._

_When he finally got there, that was when he froze. He hadn't seen her in years, hadn't even talked to her. For three nights, that boy stood under an oak tree that seemed as if it wouldn't die. The first night, he couldn't even look at the house. The second, he dug deep into himself and found a little courage. The boy looked at the girl's bedroom window. He knew if was hers for there she stood, as beautiful as ever. But that third night, he was going to do it. He would march right up to that house and talk to her. But to his surprise, he wouldn't need to do such a rash thing. She came to him._

_I love you, Scarlett. With everything that's been going on lately, I feel as though I'm a dead man walking, like my heart doesn't have a pulse. But I spend a few hours with you, and it's like I'm a completely different person. I _need _you. I need you like a starving man needs bread. I said it last night, and I meant it. I just had to see you. One last time._

_I've never lied to you before, and it killed me to do so last night. I won't be under the oak tree tonight. Please don't look for me. _

_Yours Forever,_

_Roman._

Scarlett held the letter to her chest, tears rolling down her face and splashing on the floor like glass. She just couldn't believe it. This was a sick joke. He was playing a joke on her and he really would be under the oak tonight. She was sure of it. Wiping the tears from her face hastily, Scarlett stuffed the letter underneath her pillow and rushed down the stairs, looking for some breakfast.

Roman was telling the truth. Scarlett waited until night fall, then returned to her usual spot. Curling her fingers around the white frame of her window, Scarlett peered to the place where he once stood. The space was empty. Scarlett felt as though someone was holding onto her heart, pulling, twisting, and squeezing it for their own sick amusement. Everything she'd ever wanted, everything she'd ever hoped for, everything she'd ever dreamed about, it felt as though it had just been ripped from her fingers. Throwing herself from the window frame, Scarlett fell effortlessly and lifelessly to the bed.

As she fell, she heard a crinkling noise. Lifting her pillow, she rediscovered the letter. Lifting herself from the bed, Scarlett held the letter up, as if she was going to rip it into teeny little bits, only to stop dead in her tracks. A note had been sketched roughly on the back. _Ask your mother if you really wish to know._ Wrinkling her eyebrows, Scarlett frowned, but continued reading. _But if only my dad could tell you. _

Scarlett shook her head, confused as ever. _His dad..._ Scarlett thought, mouthing the words to herself. It only took her a moment more to realize what had happened to his father, and in turn, what had happened to Roman. She finally understood why he didn't want her involved. He didn't want her to see him go through the painful things his father did. Though, she could have been next to him every step of the way, he chose her happiness over his.

Walking gracefully back to the window, letter in hand, Scarlett gazed down to where he once stood. For a second, she thought that she'd seen Roman standing there, looking up at her. But as she blinked, the image slowly faded away. In a hoarse whisper, Scarlett's breath fogged up the window, "Good-bye."


End file.
